


For We Deserve A Soft Epilogue, My Love

by GabrielPace



Category: Supernatural
Genre: 15x20 Fix-It, Dean Rescues Cas, DeanCas - Freeform, Destiel - Freeform, F/M, Fight Me CW, Fix-It, Jack is God, Jack is good, Love Wins, M/M, Miracle is the only valid part of 15x20, Saileen - Freeform, This is what we should have gotten tbh, With Feeling this Time, finale fix-it
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-20
Updated: 2020-11-20
Packaged: 2021-03-10 02:08:24
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,752
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27645940
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GabrielPace/pseuds/GabrielPace
Summary: Fix-It Fic for 15x20 Carry On because we and the characters deserved better. In this fic, determination, and prayer helps love win. "Family doesn't end with blood"
Relationships: Castiel/Dean Winchester, Eileen Leahy/Sam Winchester
Comments: 6
Kudos: 52





	For We Deserve A Soft Epilogue, My Love

**Author's Note:**

> Title from "We Sleep, and Maybe We'll Wake Up" by nikka ursula

Freedom. It all had been for freedom. Their shackles had been lifted, no longer were they controlled by an omniscient being hell-bent on pulling the strings. Yet, sitting in his room in the bunker, Dean couldn’t help but feel hollow. It didn’t seem real that all that was left were he and Sam, alone in the vast space, corridors filled with the memories of their friends and their family. Outside these four walls, his safe haven, Dean tried his best. Breakfasts with his brother and the damn dog that had had no business nestling itself into his heart this quickly, solo trips with Baby, no big bad to go after. As long as he was with them, he could distract himself, pretend he didn’t spend his nights looking through the few pictures of _his family_ , cursing why the hell they didn’t take more, cursing why pictures were all that he had left. His room was messier than he’d ever let it become, not since… _Cas_. As much as he wanted to pretend otherwise, all that he could see in the war room were the spaces between himself and Sam, the gaping holes. There wasn’t any fight to throw himself into, it had been quiet since Chuck mewled in the dirt, finally powerless. It was quiet, and Dean hated it.

Sam, ever the faithful, had hope. The spark was small, but it was there. The books he took to his bedside table, prayers to Jack, the pats on Dean’s shoulder. As much as Sam relished the calm, domestic life in the bunker, it wasn’t enough. Not for him, and certainly not for Dean. The glimpses he’d seen of his brother’s room, the tightness of his smiles, even his unreasonably quick attachment to Miracle, they told Sam enough. Enough to read and re-read every book he could find that mentioned the Empty or resurrection rituals, enough to take over household chores since they wouldn’t get done any other way. Even enough to scour the entire internet, and when he got really desperate, call every number in every phone they owned, looking for clues, hoping. Whenever Dean went on one of his many drives with Baby, Sam could really focus on his mission. He prayed a lot, more than he’d ever done before. “Jack, please answer us, we need your help.” Another futile attempt. He hit the table. Weeks had passed and he needed an answer. He needed to wipe that look from his brother’s face, he needed to wipe that look from his own. “Please”. For once in their damn lives, he wanted to at least get the chance to say goodbye. Sitting dejected in the war room, Sam’s head shot up when he heard a familiar flutter. “Cas?” 

“Not quite”, Jack’s voice droned behind Sam, his familiar tone interlaced with undeniable power. He was God, but he was Jack. Sam turned around, seeing this otherworldly being standing there, simultaneously God and the angel kid Sam and Dean and Cas had taken in, the kid who had asked him if he was bad, tears shimmering in his eyes. The kid they had watched movies, solved cases, and defeated evil with. The kid who defied his ancestry, who chose, as much as any human, to be good. He still looked the same, all that power contained in a boy’s body. Sam was still staring when Jack waved, a smile on his face. “I heard your prayers.” Hope spread in Sam’s chest, it’s warm glow feeding into his boldness, a familiar feeling. “Can you bring him…can you bring them back?” A small smile spread across Jack’s face, his eyes glowing a little. “Is it what you really need? You and Dean?”, he asked, slowly stepping closer towards Sam. “Yes, we tried, I tried, but we are so alone. We are not enough for each other anymore”, Sam admitted, the truth hurting but also freeing him. Their family, this bunker, needed other people, most of all, it needed Cas and Eileen. Jack had definitely read his mind because his eyes glowed, a sight that always distracted Sam, so much so he didn’t hear the clicking of the bunker door opening. 

On the road with nothing and no one but his beloved car was where Dean could truly let go. No one there to see him tear up listening to _the_ mixtape, no one there to watch him pray, no one to see how broken he truly was. Cas had said he wasn’t and Dean had almost believed him. But then that son of a bitch died, died before Dean could process what was even going on, what Cas was saying. He could hardly bear the thought that the last time he had heard Cas’ voice was on that damn phone call, that the last words spoken by Cas weren’t by Cas at all. That he was gone again, a short 2 years at Dean’s side, _to die again_. Maybe Dean could make peace with himself one day, but he couldn’t, wouldn’t make peace with Cas…being gone. These drives were his way of protecting Sam, of dealing with it on his own for fucking once. And he suspected Sam needed the time alone, too. Parking Baby in front of the bunker, he gently stroked the steering wheel, taking a deep breath. But nothing could have prepared him for what was behind the bunker door. There he stood as he did on that day so long ago. Jack. Looking down on his sort-of kid who is also somehow God, and his brother, something stirred in Dean. It reminded him of the mix of pain and euphoria when they faced Chuck. “..We are not enough for each other anymore”, he heard Sam say, and even as his face was obscured, his back towards Dean, he could picture his brother’s face as he talked, _pleaded_ with their kid, their God. Jack’s eyes met Dean’s, the glow behind them so familiar it hurt. Dean held steady, letting his guard down just a fraction because he had hope. If there was one person who could reason with God, it was his brother, his smart and passionate little brother. All he wanted Jack to see was how much, how much Sam Winchester cared, how Dean would fall apart even more without him. Maybe it had been Sam’s words or Dean’s eyes, but something changed in Jack’s expression, the glowing eyes more prominent than ever. The glow spread from his eyes outward, blinding, and all-encompassing. 

As the light subsided, two things had changed in the room. Next to Jack, unharmed and so succinct, stood Eileen. Dean could see Sam rushing over to hug her, gratefully holding her close. A softness settled in Dean’s heart at the sight. But his eyes had automatically wandered to the glowing rift a few feet away from everyone on the ground floor, its dark interior and faint purple tinge a stark contrast to the bunker’s muted colors. “You can come down now, Dean”, Jack boomed, his voice filling the room and causing Sam and Eileen to whip their heads around to see Dean on the staircase. He lifted his hand in greeting, walking down to meet them, the ominous rift keeping his attention almost the entire time. “Dean”, Jack said, a softer smile now donning his face. Sam and Eileen stood there, arm in arm, eyes shining bright and smiles even brighter. Dean sent a smile in their direction as he arrived on the ground floor. “What’s that?”, he said, his voice unexpectedly rough, vaguely pointing towards the rift. “I do not hold the power to bring Castiel back from the Empty myself, but maybe you do.” Dean stumbled back, his eyes a little wetter than he’d like them to be. “You mean..” He couldn’t say it. Too jaded to dare to hope. Jack gently nodded, then one last smile towards all of them, a flutter, and he was gone. All that remained were the three of them and that rift.

Dean had rushed into his room, frantically throwing together any weapon, anything that could help him against the empty when a knock at his door pulled him out of his spiraling thoughts. Predictably it was Sam, who had begged to come with him. “No, no chance”, Dean gruffed before his brother could even open his mouth. “You and Eileen, you stay here, safe. I won’t have any of it.” His gaze was steelier, more desperate than it had been in a long time. “I need to do this alone, Sammy”, he underlined, staring Sam down. “At least take this then”, Sam said after a moment of silence, a moment of unspoken communication between the two of them. Sam held up a small item in his hand, hanging from a string. Dean’s old amulet. “I thought this had gotten lost”, Dean whispered, gently taking the worn leather band with the dull metal charm, scratched up from years’ worth of wear and tear. Carefully, he put it around his neck, swearing he could feel its weight near his heart despite the fact that it was too light to be felt through his layered shirts. “Thank you, Sammy.” He hugged his brother, tight, speaking lowly into his patient ear, “In case I don’t make it back, don’t look for me. Live your life and look after Eileen, you two deserve to be happy.” His breath caught in his throat as he let go, off to go into the unknown.

Going through the rift felt like nothing and everything at once. It was as if the rift was digesting him. Behind it, pure darkness. A darkness so deep and everlasting, Dean wasn’t sure it was anything. This was nothing, and somewhere in all this nothingness was Cas. A bag slung on his back, a blade in his hand, Dean ventured in, calling Cas’ name. Losing all sense of time, his calls became more desperate as his voice became rougher and rougher until he was barely able to speak above a whisper. How do you find anything in nothing? The only fixed point was the purple glow of the rift, which got smaller and yet stayed the same as Dean moved around in the Empty. His feet hurt but he had been through worse. His head was swimming and his eyes were, too, but he had been through worse. Cas was worth it. “Cas”, he called out yet again, the call echoing unanswered. “I don’t know if you can hear me, but I have something to say to you”, Dean pivoted, the neverending darkness clawing at him, drowning him in desperation. A tear ran down his cheek before he could stop it, and he dropped his weapon. He dropped everything, himself on this nonexistent and yet existing floor, his knees and his back suddenly every bit as old as his soul. “Damnit Cas, I didn’t even get to tell you that I-” 

Something touched his leg, startling him beyond belief. It felt like he had spent eternity walking this desolate, empty, darkness, no other being in sight. But something was touching him, grabbing his ankle. Rising from the nothingness was a hand, a hand with a familiar tan sleeve poking out from the sludge. Dean grabbed it faster than he can remember grabbing anything, dragging, pulling, with all his might, weapons abandoned on the floor. So consumed with pulling, he didn’t notice a different rising, the darkness forming behind him, sculpting itself. The hand and the arm attached to it was all Dean could see. A shoulder emerged, then a head, with dark hair and blue eyes. A body slowly followed, crooked tie and all, lightly coated in the liquid darkness, yet oddly dry. Both arms wrapped around the torso, Dean made more rapid progress, pulling Castiel free. No words were spoken as Castiel rose, tentatively standing on the darkness that just held him, looking just like when he had died. “Cas.” Now there was no holding back. Groaning a little from his aching muscles, out of breath and exhausted to the core, but with tears in his eyes and a shaky smile on his face, Dean embraced his fallen friend, the angel who had been by his side for much too short, a being so unfathomably old and powerful, with eyes piercing into his soul. Here, in the darkness, Dean clung to Castiel, who tentatively hugged him back. 

“What a touching scene”, a voice rang in the nothingness, causing them to freeze up. The sludge behind them had formed into something resembling a body, but it didn’t bother disguising itself in a familiar face, didn’t try to seem more human than it was. It was purely inhuman, menacing, and it was too close to Dean’s bag. Cas automatically moved to shove Dean behind him, to protect him, a hand on his arm, fear in his eyes. The darkness was towering over them. “If I never get the chance”, Dean rushed to say, face still wet with tears of relief, “I better say it now.” Freeing his hand from Cas’ grasp, Dean carefully cradled Cas’ face, all his energy focused on the rebellious angel, this being of love who had chosen to see the best in Dean, who had time and time again given up everything for humanity, for the Winchesters, for Dean. Who had fought heaven and hell and still came back to Dean’s side no matter how much he screwed up, how ungrateful, and how broken he was. Cas had called him the most selfless, loving human being, after all of it he had told Dean he loved him. “You are more selfless and loving than most humans I know. I am sorry for all I have and haven’t said. I am sorry that I did not see, did not believe.” Softly stroking Castiel’s face, Dean took a deep breath. They were in nothingness, surely about to be swallowed whole, but they were together. Sam was safe outside, he had something to hold onto even without Dean. With a deep breath, Dean took the plunge. “Me, too.” With no sound at all the darkness enveloped them.

From the darkness, a glow emerged. Through the sludge and the endless nothing, white light streamed in waves, breaking through the eternal abyss. There they stood, Dean Winchester, the Righteous Man, and Castiel, Angel of the Lord, embracing, shielded by a protective glow. The amulet, a treasured gift between brothers, a beacon of God, a parting gift, engulfed them with its light. Sure of their impending end, Dean looked up to see nothing but brightness, to feel nothing but the solid body against him, the hands on his back. A warmth filled him to the brim, urging him to go on, so he let go of Castiel, taking his hand, and disorientedly searching for the purple light indicating the rift. He spotted it and looked at Cas, who simply nodded. The sludge was reforming, but Cas and Dean were running, running faster than they ever remember running. The amulet’s protective glow kept the dread and fear at bay. This time, Dean would not leave Cas behind. He would never leave him behind again. Tightening his grip on Castiel’s hand, Dean jumped through the rift. 

It had been hours, Sam couldn’t tell how long exactly. He and Eileen had spent most of the time curled up around each other, staring at the rift, and quietly praying. Eating, sleeping, going anywhere except a brief toilet break was unthinkable. They couldn’t bear the thought of whoever came back returning to an empty room. The rift had held steady, occasionally flickering a bit, which immediately caused Sam to pray even harder to Jack. But this time the flickering was of a different nature. One slight dimming, then a brightening, then two bodies falling onto the ground. Dean and Castiel, groaning on the floor, holding hands, vibrantly alive. Sam untangled himself from Eileen and rushed towards them, noticing the odd light shining from Dean’s chest. Just then Dean ripped off the light, the amulet, and threw it back into the rift, which seemed dimmer than ever. Sam held out a hand and helped them get up, his heart seizing at the sight of Castiel. “Good to have you back, Cas”, Sam chocked, embracing him heartedly. Seeing his brother and his angel standing next to each other, breathless, teary-eyed, and so very alive, Sam sent out one last prayer out to Jack just as the rift was closing: “Thank you.”


End file.
